Onward
by emarieself
Summary: Starting over after the war is going to be difficult, but Harry is determined to live a happy and peaceful life after the first 18 tumultuous years.


Harry stared at the letter, mouth open. How could they expect him to just march back into his childhood home and take something that didn't belong to him?

"What assignment did they give you?" asked Ron, who was looking over the parchment warily.

Harry folded the letter back up and shoved into the moleskin pouch Hagrid has given him. "You'll soon hear about it, I suppose." he said with a sigh.

"Well, come on, then. We need to go help mum before we leave."

He snapped his head up to look at Ron. No. Way.

"You're not coming with me. It's a Dursley thing."

"Mate. I'm not not coming with you. You know that. You don't have to do this alone." Ron clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, looking him solemnly in the eye. "We're family. I'm going to show support for you. It's not really fair, is it? Asking you to do something for the people that abused you your entire life?"

"I can handle them now."

"I never said you couldn't."

They climbed down the numerous flights of stairs in The Burrow, passing the now empty rooms of all but two of the Weasley children, stopping only when they got to the ground level, turning into the kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley sat at the kitchen table, photos splayed around her. As Harry got closer, he realized they were of the Weasley clan. Molly looked up as Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"These are lovely photos. You'll have to tell me about them soon." he said, trying to impart as much warmth as he could muster on each word. It had been difficult for his family. Losing so many loved ones at the same time did something to the psyche. Unbearable pain multiplied by an unknown number made it difficult to want to wake up each morning, and Molly had conceded to that despair several times over the past few months. Losing one of her boys, one of her children, was a pain she wished upon not one person. She felt, or so Arthur had told Harry, that she had failed in her duties as a mother.

Mr. Weasley had tried his best to keep up with her lows and highs since the final battle, the death of their son, Fred, and all the funerals, but it didn't seem to be enough at first. Slowly, she had started to come back to them, broken, but there. The rest of her children stayed in the home and around as was prudent, including her in activities and helping around the house, but eventually, careers and school and their own burgeoning families called them away, leaving promises of plenty of visits soon in their wake.

"Ron, dear, are you going out?" She said while wiping underneath her eyes, making sure her face was dry.

"Yes, mum. Harry just got his first assignment, I told him I'd tag along."

"That's wonderful, Harry! I know you'll do great. What is your assignment?"

"I have to go to the Dursley's. They have some magical objects they shouldn't." it was as if the volume on the natural sounds had been turned down, a stillness blanketed them.

"That sounds..." She chose her words carefully, "out of character for your aunt and uncle. They despise magic. What could they possible have wanted with those objects?"

"It was actually my cousin, Dudley, and it sounds about right for him. He was always lifting stuff from me when we were kids. I expect he stole from Dedalus."

"Absolutely horrid. Well, I hope you make him see sense, Harry. Ron, keep him," she jerked her head in Harry's direction, "from losing his levelheaded-ness. The Auror office won't take kindly to hexing muggles. Not now, anyway."

"Unfortunately, I don't think I could stop him when it comes to that lot."

"Ron! No matter what those people have done, it's important that amends be made. Especially now, when your careers hang in the balance." She looked at him sternly while stacking up the photographs into a semi-neat pile. "Can you put these in the box on that shelf over there?" She pointed to the appropriate box, holding the photos out in Ron's direction.

()()()()()

They stood at the end of the drive, looking at Harry's childhood home. Mrs. Figg had just waved to him from her front garden down the way, holding tightly to one of her dozen cats.

Ron looked at Harry. Harry sighed and strode forward, head up, shoulders square. He was just reaching for the doorbell when the door itself swung inward, his uncle's face appearing behind it.

"Oh. It's you." He stepped aside. Harry took he moment to look his uncle up and down. He had lost weight. A lot of weight. Harry had always known Vernon Dursley to be a large man with a sometimes large and boisterous personality. He now seemed meek and paler than porridge.

"How are you, Uncle?" Harry inquired. His uncle grunted. "Of course. It must have been difficult living like refugees this past year."

His uncle rounded on him. "Difficult? You think being uprooted from my home with just the essential possessions and going on the run with a blathering fool of a wizard is merely difficult?! You're off your rocker, Harry." Harry tried so desperately to cling to his bland and authoritative disposition, but that struggle was going to be over soon if he didn't say what he wanted.

"Oh. So, let's go down the checklist, shall we, Uncle? You didn't have to stay here, in danger in your own home. You were graciously taken in by an outstandingly kind wizard. You had someone watching over you, protecting you, every second of the day. You were not starved. You were not beaten. You did not have to defend yourself against evil, prejudiced tyrants that wanted nothing more to eradicate you and people like you. You didn't lose anyone you loved. You didn't know what was fully going on, blissfully ignorant of the war around you, and yet you have the audacity to be ungrateful?!" The pressure of Ron's hand on his shoulder reminded him of his current duty and he regained composure.

"Where's my cousin?" Harry asked.

()()()()()()

He found Dudley in his room upstairs, tinkering with a tiny object emitting puffs of electric blue smoke.

"Dudley?"

He turned to face the doorway. "Harry. It's good to see you!" He bounded across his room in just two steps and embraced his younger cousin. "I heard from Diggle about how things went at Hogwarts. I'm sorry you had to go through that."

To say Harry was stunned at the attitude of his cousin was THE understatement. "I had a lot of help, Dudley. There's no way I could've done that stuff without my friends." He looked around at Dudley's bedroom. Little metallic objects covered the surfaces. "What are these, if you don't mind my asking?"

"They're magical things." The look Harry gave him must've encouraged him to elaborate. "If I'm completely honest, I don't know what they do. Dedalus had an abundance of them and said I could have some. He gave me about twenty of the gadgets."

"They look really expensive. Why'd he give them to you?"

"He said something about not needing them anymore. He didn't really give a reason. But he had been so brilliant to me and mum and dad, I didn't dare refuse."

"Dudley. I know you'll probably be upset, but it's not safe or legal for a non-magical person to have these things. I've actually come here specifically because the Ministry of Magic instructed me to come and collect them."

"Why? They were given to me."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just a law made up to protect both wizard and muggle. Imagine if you were hurt by one of these or someone else got hurt. Diggle would be the one in trouble." Dudley looked more than crestfallen. He looked distraught. "Ok, let me try to make you a deal. If you let me take them today, I'll try to get the office to look them over and make sure they're completely safe, and see if we can't get them back to you. Does that sound OK?" Dudley nodded and reached fora duffle bag at the foot of his bed.

"You can put them in this." He said.

()()()()()()

As Harry was coming down the stairs, he heard Ron talking to someone. Once he made it to the landing, he saw it was his aunt. She rushed to him and embraced him, he could feel her face was damp.

"Harry. I'm so glad you're safe. I know I've been a horrible aunt to you, but will you please try to find it in your heart to forgive me? Or at least let me try to make it right?"

She was still holding onto him tightly while he patted her back and said "Of course."


End file.
